


A Raincheck On That Lunch Date

by C-chan (1001paperboxes)



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Gender Neutral Pronouns for Kel, Other, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21882421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001paperboxes/pseuds/C-chan
Summary: A second try at Leah's 10 heart event, with less interlopers and more conversation.
Relationships: Leah/Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	A Raincheck On That Lunch Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolfraven80](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfraven80/gifts).



You have your second try at a picnic a week or two later, this time on an island in the river south of your homes. 

The island gives you a nice vantage point of the surrounding area, making it harder for someone to sneak up on you. You don't want a repeat of last time, after all. And while you're sure that Kel could literally burn bridges if they wanted to, Leah laughs when you point that out, and assures you that she's a good swimmer.

It doesn't quite assuage your worry, but it still warms your heart to see her smile and hear her laughter.

Unlike last time, this picnic isn't a surprise. In fact, you brought the red and white gingham picnic blanket that's currently laid out beneath you. Your mother told you to take it when you moved out to the country, certain that you'd want to go on picnics sooner or later in such a gorgeous place. 

You both brought food; Leah's are items that she foraged and mixed together with care, yours are things you baked and cooked from ingredients harvested that morning from the farm. And, okay, maybe you cheated a little on the cookies, buying the chocolate from Pierre's, and technically the wine and cheese took a few days, but all of it is still as fresh as could be, created and crafted with love and hard work.

It's really quite the feast. Leah is sure to tell you that, cheeks tinged a sheepish shade of pink as she puts her offerings in amongst the bounty you've brought. And maybe you should have brought a bit less, but you love cooking for Leah just as much as you love eating her cooking, and it would have felt wrong to do anything else.

"Sorry again for last time," Leah says. You shake your head; none of that was her fault, after all, but she continues.

“I came out here to escape city life, but also to get a fresh start. After my breakup with Kel, I…" she sighs, gathering her thoughts. "I just needed a change. To be somewhere new and different, where I could connect with nature and my art, but also where I could make a new name for myself. But I guess we can never outrun our past altogether, can we?”

You think about your time at Joja; the soul-crushing atmosphere in the cubicle that was practically your home away from home, the way you got used to the blinking red light of the security camera monitoring your every move. You think about how much your heart aches when you see Shane’s depression, and wonder how much of it stems from the job he holds and the tight leash Joja still has on him.

Yes, you say, you think you understand.

“But now, I think we can move on." Leah meets your eyes at that, as confident as you've ever seen her be. “You know, Kel’s last visit got me thinking. Kel is always going to be an important part of my life. Maybe I’ll never see them again. And, frankly, I kind of hope I don’t, and not just because of the black eye they’re probably sporting now. But I have to accept that the time we spent together helped shape me into who I am today, just as moving out here and meeting you has. We’re the product of all our experiences, as well as what we’re born with. Nature and nurture. There’s no use running from what was; it’s much better to own and understand it. And if it makes you angry, well, turn that into art, and let that speak for you.”

She gave another soft, self-aware chuckle.

“Sorry. You came out here for a meal, not for a manifesto.”

You let her know it’s all right. You like her theories, after all. There’s a lot to learn from her.

Leah smiles at that. “I feel the same about you. Maybe there’s a lot we can learn from each other.”

You like the sound of that.

From there, the conversation moves onto other things. Leah tells you more about her art; how she first got into wood sculpture, and how she likes to work on one piece at a time, rather than have several on the go. 

“I try different techniques,” she explains, “but I’m always afraid that I’ll mess up my inspirations if I do too much at once. So each piece gets the same amount of care and focus, and other ideas get put in a notebook to see if they still inspire me when I’ve got the time to commit to a new one.”

You ask if you can see the notebook, but Leah shakes her head.

“Trade secret, I’m afraid. Plus, I might have a couple potential gifts for you in there, so no peeking!”

You soberly promise never to look inside, and to let her keep all the secrets she wishes to keep.

“So tell me,” she says, “what’s your favourite part about farming?”

It’s hard to choose just one, and you say as much. You tell her about the feel of the dirt under your feet, and how you like to talk to each plant as you water it and harvest its fruits. You tell her about the rapport you have with your animals, and how much personality they all have. You tell her about how good fresh milk tastes, and how you never imagined making your own bread and cheese from scratch, but how now you could probably never go back to store-bought again. And then, you go beyond the farm. You talk about your shared passion for foraging, about smelting and carpentry. You tell her about the various errands you’ve run, and the friendships you’ve forged. You tell her about your adventures in the mines, and the fishes you’ve caught, and a little bit about the mysteries you’re just beginning to unravel about the supernatural elements that help to keep the town so beautiful.

Leah’s eyes are wide by the end.

“I never knew you did so much,” she said. “That goes beyond anything I’d ever imagined being part of farming life.”

You could very much say the same, and you do. But you really can’t imagine it any other way.

You both eat your fill, polishing off both dishes that Leah brought, and making a large dent in the bounty you’d provided. You insist on Leah taking half the leftovers, and she collects her favourite parts: the apple butter, the fresh bread, and the berries you’d left raw and delicious. The rest goes back in the basket, which you carry together as you make your way back to Leah’s home.

“You really don’t have to escort me,” she says, but you insist. It’s on the way, after all.

Plus, it gives you a chance to give her a good-bye kiss as you reach her door.

She smiles, returning it in kind.

“Thanks for a lovely day,” she says. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

You agree. And really, you can’t wait.


End file.
